Skip to main content

Full text of "The factory girl"

See other formats

Kg' - . w . > 






. -bed on the 1st and I 5th of every month, 

OFFICE— In the Brick-Block No. 51 
tin Street, New- Market N. H. 
PERMS.— 60 emits per annum, or 25 
its for six months, in advance, 
lay person transmitting ONE DOL- 
iR shall receive five copies of this pa- 
-for six months. 

<3" All Letters, Communications, &.C., 
nt be directed to the Publisher, post 

id OR FREE. 

The Factory Girl is for sale, at G. 
iFurber's Fancy Good Store, corner 
Main and Central Streets. Price 
) cents per copy. 




it thy fiiir breast, and once fair soul, 
I thought my vows were writ alone ; 
Int others' oaths so blurr'd the scroll, 
That I no more can read my own, 
nil am I still obliged to pay, 
Vhen thou Inst thrown the bond away 1 
( Or, the Knight ol St. John.) 

cyea were a? bright as a river of light, 
iis cheeks like a roue from the east couatrie; 
I '"c j . .ii irji ?ru cim, ann so gali'-itu williar, 
lone could gaze all unmov'd on his exce lleucie 
in every lair damsel cried when he had gone. 
Mm a LOVE of n Knight is the Knight ol" Saint 
John !'* 

t when it was told (hat his heart was as cold 
La coldest winter in Mnscnvie, 
M lit was above every feeling of love, 
Inn was hound by a vow onto chastitie; 
U«k !" Cried each damsel whose heart he had 
' won, 

Hurt a WRETCH of a Knight is the Knight of 
Saint John !" 

TO N I \ G A R A. 

By Dr. R. H. Couyer. 

.niblem and altar of Omnipotence! 

Ian offers at thy shrine his humble praise: 

'* wonder!— " Lord, thy will be done!" 

i tinnderiug accents the wiid waters raise. 

'roud man-he trembles nt thy sweeping flood; 
« silence yields snbmi.-sion «i thy siyht; 
lis mental „.nl admits thai all is g ,od, 
uid hows in awe at thy Creator's might. 

•'a'ure, in exultation, ihrows her iirch 
>' triumph o'er thy cloud by night and day, 
' thus transcending Art's rr.ost onward march, 
"d "Victory ! 'Victory!" ever »eem» to say. 

agara!— -tins lesson thou has tnught 
»ln of every aga ami dialect, 
*i mighty, solemn as thou art,— thou'rt naught 
the "Great Spirit,"— thy dread architect" 
We Rock, Dec 12, 1812. 

>**om» no, so gray, but soon or late, 
mit some silly gander-for her-uHMe. 


For the Factory Gill. 


and the introduction of a bottle of wine, 
the two officers prepared, one to relate, and 
j t he other to listen, to the old story of hu- 
Why were we created, and what design ma n sorrows transformed to human crimes 

had God in our creation, if we fulfil not 
his plans ? Are not all our actions prompt- 
ed !>y motives which we cannot control ? — 
Do we fashion our own natures, and 
imbibe voluntarily, our love of hold and 
daring exploits, and thirst for excitement 
and gold f" 

Such were the meaning words addressed 
Ity the first to the second officer of a beau- 
tiful clipper built schooner, as she was glid- 
ing with a stiff breeze near the coast of New 
England, one morning in May, 1820. The 
young man to whom they were addressed 
made no reply, but leaned over the rail, in 
what landsmen term a 'brown study, 'while 
the speaker continued to pace the deck, 
with an air of dogged determination which 
ever mat ks the victims of Fatalism and 
Ambition. He was about SO years of age, 
armed like a privateersman, and his dress 
and manner were in admirable keeping 
with the appearance of the wicked looking 
vessel which was dashing her way through 
the brine towards New England's rocky 
shore. She was about 150 tons burthen, 
carried a huge cloud of canvass lor so 
small a hull, and seemed admirably caleu- 
!ated to fight or run away, as it pleased the 
master spirit who guided her movements. 
On her deck glittered 8 guns, as if waiting 
to vomit death upon the unresisting mer- 
chantmen, and around her decks glittered 
in sad abundance, the implements of war 
forevery species of mortal conflict. Near- 
ly forty of her crew were on her deck, all 
of whom were young men, who regarded 
their cautain with n sort a£ enn aii criiln i n- 
n we.the usual result when strong and weak 
minds are brought in collision. 

As the day advanced, it disclosed the o- 
cean dotted with the vessels of many na- 
tions, with none of whom did the corsair 
cline to have the slightest intercourse, but 
held his way unmolested to the extreme 
northern point of the District of Maine. — 
The conversation with which we commen- 
ced oar story was renewed at a late hour 
between the two officers, by tin allusijn to 
the coast they had just aban'doned. 

" We have played the English bull-dogs 
a sly trick, Cardiff," observed the mate, 
whom we will call Murdock — " Egad, the 
Bahamas were getting quite too hot to be 
comfortable, after the introduction of so 
many gun-brigs." 

" Exactly so, Murdock ; but I feel terri- 
b'e wolfish that we missed that Charleston 
packet. By what infernal mishap did we 
run so far to leeward.? She had a glori- 
ous heap of specie': !" 

"Aye, and a glorious heap of lady pas- 
sengers ! But, Cardiff, I wish to ask you 
two important questions." 

Say on, Murdock, only get through be- 
fore dinner." 

" Why do you rail at such mishaps when 
you are so firm a Fatalist ? and w hat un 
explained motive have you for venturing 
upon this iron bound shore at this s -ason ?" 

" It is a natural consequence that I should 
rail at these disasters as much so as they 
are fated to happen . As to the cause of 
my visit to these northern shores, I believe 
I have promised to reveal the causes which 
made me a corsair, and they are the secret 
springs of my present movement. You 
will then comprehend why 1 am on these 
shores instead ol dodging pirate hunters in 
my dancing beauty, Arab. "(the name of 
the vessel .) 

Their confab was imerru|Ked by the^all 
to <fesner. -'After- lie-Tenrova!- of the -cloth, 

and the woes of existence made a weak a- 
pology for deeds of depravity and murder. 
The Pirate's Story. 
" I am a sailor's son, and was born 4n 
the District of Maine. I was ever a pas- 
sionate boy, and my impetuous temper was 
constantly hurrying me into difficulties' 
which had nearly placed me under the ban 
of the law at the early age of 18. At this 
age a change took place in my opinions and 
feelings. J became a cool and calculating 
young man ; 1 seldom lost my temper, & 
learned to regard the" course of human e- 
vents" as the manifestations of Deity's 
will, and all the phases of human action as 
the predetermined results of omnipotence. 
At the age o(T9 I fell in love, an accident 
which one like you w hose whole existence 
is but one fevered passion, can never 
know. ("Thank heaven !" was the re- 
sponse ol Murdock.) The girl was inspir- 
ed wild a mutual passion, and we were al- 
ready booked its man and wife by the gad- 
ding, tea-drinking, matth-m i£ing clique of 
old women in our neighbourhood, u hen fate 
broke off our courtship, and gave the lie to 
their predictions. A tyrannical father's 
will was interposed to bar our union ; — a 
will that Jane Drummond dared not op- 
pose. Capt. Drummond was the only man 
I had ever looked upon with sensations of 
fear : he had conceived a most bitter and 
unaccountable prejudice against me, which 
an nngry discussion increased to open op- 
position : he forbade Jane receiving my 

pmicieuee with me, or even to thmk 'of 'iriel 
Though I plotted many an hour to obtain 
an interview with her, yet I was continual- 
ly foiled by the watchful father, who seemed 
to scent rny approach with the keenness of 
of a bloodhound. In despair I shipped for a 
voyage to Cuba, and was absent II months 
—and during my absence, I learned some 
lessons in the corsair's manual, which you 
as well as our crew have found so very 
profitable. We were captured by a pirat- 
ical craft, and I was forced to kill or be 
killed. I ch ose the former, and soon be- 
came a successful and daring freebooter.— 
Yet 1 could not smother my passion for 
Jane, and I abandoned my lawless occupa- 
tion at the first opening I saw for an es- 
cape, aut.1 returned to Phipsburg with a 
seared conscience, bloody hands, and well- 
filled pockets. On my return, I found that 
Jane was married ! I was a madman— a 
demon ! when I learned the intelligence. — 
In my rage and, grief I set about. "devising 
a plan to carry her off. She lived but a few 
rods from her father's door, in a cottage on 
the barren bluff at the mouth of the Ken- 
nebec river. By dint of gold I soon prepar- 
ed a fast sailing vessel and a band of chos- 
en boys to aid me in the enterprise. When 
all was matured, we anchored in the river 
at midnight, landed in our boat, — proceed- 
ed to her house, and found it deserted. 
In an agony of doubt we visited her father's 
house, and that also was tenantless. We 
instantly concluded we were betrayed. We 
returned to our vessel, and weighed anchor, 
concluding it was unsafe to remain in the 
river with our object known on shore. I af- 
terwards learned that on the day we left 
our rendezvous on Wood Island, Captain 
Drummond and bis family, including Jane, 
had left for New York on a visit to her 
husband's parents. ' I disposed of the cut- 
ter, discharge* her men, and flew to New 
York j alas, I could find no trace of them. 

Maddened by these disappointments, I en- 
listed, deserted and entered the navy, left 
that after fighting a duel with the third 
Lieutenant, and became a privateersman 
during the war with England it! '14. 
the close of the war, I was captured arid re- 
cognised by some of my old comrades, u 
again won my way to the captain's b< 
iof the Arab. Y'ou remember the Liver| 
packet wecaptnred in November, and u I 
was lost with all on board in tryii g to 
her in ? that vessel contained the husbi 
and father of Jane Kermit. From the 
learned that she still resides near the hi 
and she is now, doubtless, mourning 
loss of her relatives, or waiting to hea 
their misfortune. I am now wearied v 
my present course, am determined to tn 
one more effort to return — to clear from i iv 
mind that spectre of hope and doubt wh 
has been continually before me since 
hands were first stained with innoc 
blood. I am bound for that river. If j i 
find her, marry her, and content myself to 
live on the land, I shall do so and lei 
you, the Arab, and her hardy crew to pur- 
sue your way at pleasure. If not, I si 
return to the Carribean Sea to pluud 
fight — and dieV' 

" My eyes ! captain, what n gaum 
you've run for one woman ! I would d 
20 of the fairest flowers that ever bloon eT 
in a Turkish haram to make me run in 
such excesses. And you now give up a raj 
ver's life for a buxom widow of 28- 
home on the dull, quiet shore, ami a life ■ 
— nothing to do ! Oh, nonsense, capt;i 
nonsense! We cannot afford to lose you 
thus. But does the widow know of \< 
present honest occupation ? Because if ;>be 
(iocs, i am not leaiiLii or u, rsani^ iltivf". 
her agency." 

"I lear she does. Some of my font 
associates have been taken, and have < 
closed my real name and history, and s n. ■ 
tims have escaped to bear to her the tale of 
my crimes." 

"Pshaw ! call our stirring deeds by some 
smoother title, captain. Crimes I f'aua 
Say "exploits," it sounds more consolir.g 
when our names cutafigure in the papers.* 
" Your ear Is quite too refine;-! fora coin 
man pirate. You have become a pobsl 
cut-throat by being so prone to follow th 

"Curthroat ! That is another of y< 
infernal phrases which you have learn • 
by being among landsmen. I shall have • 
give you lessons in politeness, unless 
widow should teach you a more polish; 

" Sail hod" cried the look out. 
" What of it ! there are half ajmillion 
them in sight, you bloody lubber !" ret< 
ed Murdock, impatiently. 

" But this one has been standing for 
sometime, and is making signal! to an< 
er one astern. They both look like w 

"Give me my glass !" exclaimed C 
diff, who changed to a volcano of exc 
ment as the idea of a conflicteame ofm 
him. A long, careful look followed, w 
he slowly dropped his glass and excla 
ed, "We must run for it. Those ves • - 
recognize the Arab by that painted squtux- 
sail. Why in the devi/'s name did you 
it ?" 

" I concluded we were too far north tfl 
be recognized." 

" Well, it is too late to fret, Keep 
away, and get all things ready for fligl 
I will watch these grim looking lubbers. 

".By* II that's lucky, there is a squal 
that cloud I" suddenly exclaimed Murd 
I'm a fit of boyish exultation — " old Bu 


i „„n un hi, «>a jacket you nr« not.known, and in five >ears,vvlien 

will soon have to b t u " a " "P.^f. "S, J ^ES v.titJrhW art' blffem , c "" ie £ 

and lie low, while the »« « "le A™'™ 1 ; r £ m ; IvvillitiU 15* jou, : hotrgh u I <h« 

skip «vvay i.U0 the corner of hat dark cloud me, ^ ^ ^ ^ j 

Irkn h Zebrn over the desert . i 

In a few moments their intentions were late , youmustfly wi ,h me to 

mon »,H r -.t^y-e eje^ned ^D- ^.Tcat, the fleetest 

ST'tak. in su,. r and being ^«^SS and c ^ C *pS2 "Jen. Only « yo„ 

wer . ,J«e ^h J u ;»W Jjj J J Jane , a „d swear by 

spars, while the cupper mv Irwe for vott. I will never agan 

Will ttCtuinpaiij in-) ■ . - 

my love for you, I will never again he guilty 
of a deed which cau cause you one mo- 
ment's regret." 

'•It can never be, Henry ; I dtt not even 
know if I am free from my engagement as 

a wife." . 

" You may be quieted on that account, 
for I saw the vessel which contained y¥»ur 
father and husbaiu' go to pieces in a gale." 

A groan from Jane was the only response 
to this sad intelligence, and it was some 
minutes before either spake again. At 
length. Jane broke silence, and entreated 
him to fly, as he was known to be on ihe 
Northern Coast. 

« I cannot fly without you, Jane," was 
the reply 

'It must not be, Henry •, go J and if you 

miles to leeward, rutinmg dead befoie the 
wind without having le*erred a stitch of 
sail When the rain and cloud had past, 
it seemed as though the clipper had flown 
with it, for not a vestige of her was to be 
seen Either she had been dismasted, or 
<;he eone down in the gale ; which of these 
had overtaken her could not be ascertain- 
ed, sad the two national vessel* proceeded 
on their way. ,, , , . 

A. few days after the squall.the clipper had 
reached the river, and was quietly riding 
at anchor beneath Cox's Head Ihe dar- 
ing buccaneer was on shore, wholly regard- 
less ofdanger, musingiu moody melancho- 
ly upou the changes Time had wrought irr 
the man, who now stood surveying m bit- 
,, nf » a nt» uish, the home of his inno- 
Snce a"'"^ As he approached the can live a virtuous life for even «»* year, 
honae of MM Kermit, he heard her well- I will forget all that has passed. But 1 
known voice sh.-ing a mournful melody cannot, I dare not, marry a man whose 
SSlThtaS&'hSuuglit her in their love for me has inever kept his hands from 
dr iest hours of love-if any incident could I bloodshed. The thought is horrible » 
S^iS more poignL his. already «I w»H ^ffi*^"'^ 
^^^llts^VS S;^S brinf wiWthe evi- 
,o P work he si Sh test change. The man of deuces of my return to virtue. I implore 
- a - L youto keep your pledge, as rt will send 

me out again like Ishmael, if I am disap- 
pointed in your love." 

"P«or erring man !" said Jane in com- 
passion, as she kissed the tears from the 
eyes of th* melted criminal; " fear not for 
me, and in one yearl shall expect you ; — 
in the mean time, here is a keepsake from 
me, which you must promise to use as you 
know I should use it myself Will you 
promise?" ... c i 

"Any thing you wish, I promise, tor 1 
know you will require nothing inconsistent 

n-mi it<*^*.. *>-- 1 u:J j -~ *"-* r Kwell r 

Jane, as my crew will be impatient, and 1 
must plan some scheme to leave them." 

With many farewells.greetings and tears, 
they separated. On reaching the Arab 
Cardiff learned from his spies that he was 
closely watched, and he accordingly stood 
out to sea, and by this manoeuvre he es- 

in v v oi r> — - » 

Wood and passion trembled— he who had 
braved tke perils of land and sea, the bat- 
tfe and the storm, — whose hands had been 
imbrued in the blood of unoffending breth- 
ren, — now trembled at the touching asso- 
ciations kindled by a woman's voice ! How 
strangely intermingled with human destiny 
— how closely interwoven with every deed, 
are Good and Evil ! Amid the exciting and 
ciuel scenes through which Cardiff had 
passed, he had never tost sight of the bright 
dream of joy and promise which had been 
kindled by his first and only love : nor had 
her rinage ano ma uwsuiuT j oi ner oiigm 
ed hopes been absent from his mind for a 
day • and vet, they were insufficient to keep 
his feet from the paths of crime. Cardiff 
filtered the house unperceived, but he had 
scarcely uttered her name, when he was re- 
coitnized ! what a meeting ! The knowl- 
edge o( his infamy was forgotten for a mo- 
ment, as the sobbing woman clung to her 
lover with all the devotion of woman's 
love: but memory soon relumed, and the 
appalling truth burst upon he rof his guilt 

and dhnger. 

" Henry Cardiff 1" exclaimed the hor- 
ror stricken Jane, "why are you here ?— 
Wretched man 1 Why have you sought this 
.oast when your character is known from 
Maine to Georgia ? Oh, Henry, are you, 
ran you be a pirate ? Say it is not so, 
Henry, and I will never cease to thank 
heaven that I have lived to hear your 
w«r.L V 

"Jane, it in uxBless to deny it. I see rny 
rtV.e*L have made rue notorious, and a life 
which was forced upon me, will be made 
an excuse for forcing my life from me. I 
came to se : if your love was still as true as 
rny own, wh'-i-h ha* never for one moment 
wavered, and I vainly boned tint I mii'ht 
in some measure atone for the past, through 
jour influence and n new life. Jane, you 
.^•i never know the torture, the agony I 
hsve endured to *ee thi - hour, and I entre it 
you not t<>»en,| me forih again, a crush d 
and desperate Ui*n to war against my spe- 

"Henry, it is iinpoMNble 1 it can never, 
never lie! I do not know whether I have a 
husband alive or not, but to wed a pirate 
¥pon whose head a price is set, and who is 
known so w»H Mine Captain of the Aral.! 
Would to heaven I bad been spared this 
hourl Fly, Henry, ami reform I Save your 
hfe, but oh, save your future hnppmes*! 

Do not go back to your sinful deeds again! ( „„» auo ......... - „ 

Tou are yet young; jo to some place whore j with her long lost Pikat« Lover. 

mil uj onv* - 

caned a vessel which had been sent from 
Portland to capture him. What became 
of the Arab was never known.though many 
afterwards affirmed that she had been seen 
in the Mediterranean, and was the same 

bloody pirate still. 

* * » » • 

In one year from the departure of the 
Arab a gentlemanly dressed man was seen 
on his way to Cox's Head, apparently one 
of those who often left their coaches by the 
road side to view the scenery from the hill 
on the river. He left the path which led 
to the fort, however, and followed the road 
to the dwelling of Mrs. Kermit. It was the 
Pirate Cardiff. He had indeed become 
banged. When he left the Arab, he touk 
up hi"s abode in Halifax, and soon after- 
wards he removed to Canada, where he 
en -aged in study, writing, and other amuse 
menu of a mall of leisure. In his hour 
of idleness he one day thought or Jane'; 
keepsake. Inwardly reproaching himself 
for h.s long neglect of it, he drew it from 
his chest, and uncovering it, beheld a— 
BIBLE! It was too late to retract: his 
word was given, and he faithfully kept it 
He read attentively, and was— forgiven ! 
• * » • « • 
In a beautiful dwelling house ill the fash- 
ionable quarter of Quebec, resides the for 
midahle pirate Cardiff, under an assumed 
name, it is trtie, but fast atoning for his past 
(-rr„rs in a life of usefulness and virtue — 
Jane has never cea&ed to thank Heaven 
for the influence of the lucky keepsake,nor 
has slip, ever seen cause to regret her nni<*n 



For the Factory Girl. 

A recent occurence in the matrimonial line 
hag brought to mind several trick., of my early 
days, which show that even now, when gray 
hairs should warn me that it is pasl"llia time to 
laugh,'' I cannot always wear the sedate look 
which should distinguish those whom time 
has rendered "venerable!" 

In our younger days, we were duly appren- 
ticed to learn the act of printing. Although 
quite young, we hud learned the use of moon- 
light evenings, and we were trying busily to 
instruct a young lass of 16 in the same rudi- 
ments. We often met by appointment, near 
a beautiful green in the heautifal, but wicked 
village of Brunswick, (Me.) and then a long 
walk followed of course, and many words were 
uttered ad tender (and as brittle tool) as a 
spider's thread. Some times, a letter was re- 
ceived through the Post Office, informing me 
at what hour of a certain day I might expect 
to meet my moonlight pupil, (she had to steal 
away from a meddling mother!) and on all 
such occasions, I was as remarkable for punc- 
tuality, as the yeoman is to dinner in hay- 

One day I received rather a suspicious,*lov- 
enly letter from her, announcing that she 
would be pleased to meet rne on the green at 
a certain hour as usual. I suspected the let- 
ter, but the peuinanship was so very natural, I 
discarded doubt, and with a merry heart, wend- 
ed my way to moonlight studies and bliss. 

On reaching the appointed place, I beheld! 
a brother apprentice, at the head of a troop 
of the ugliest looking boys I have ever seen ! 
It seemed as tho* each vied with the other in 
anorhing loudly, and vocileraling the phrase, 
Where's Zephalinda ! " It was enough! 1 
saw I had been humbugged ! * * " 
Reader ! did you ever run from a mad dog. J or 
fly from a mad bull? Because if you ever 
did, you never begun to run as fast as I did 
from live trysling tree, in Brunswick. It 
marred my walk only for that evening, how- 
ever. But it was a trick, and I had always 
paid for such merchandize "in kind." 

Some months after that, I had removed to 
Bath, seven miles from Brunswick. One day 

I learned that rny trickster was to visit Bath 
tne next uay ween, i was preparea ior mm. 
On his reaching the suburbs of Bath, he 
saw a handbill posted up announcing that 
JAMES NELSON, Ei<». would visit Bath 
en Thursday !" 

He was puzzled amazingly. He mistrusted 
then distrusted. He resolved to go back, and 
actually turned his horse's head: but to be 
brow-beat out of his visit by, what might not 
be a )oke, after all ! poh ! that would nev^r do! 
He entered the Town, and on the door ef 
the North Meeting House wn one of the 
handbills, and a troop ofidle boys discussing 
its meaning. He again turned to fly. He 
met a friend who dissuaded him, and who in 
formed him that there were no bills to be seen 
"down town.'' He accordingly came into 
town in company with his friend; but the 
way he looked suspiciously at all who looked 
at him, was "werry pecooltar!" The sweat 
stood in huge drops on his brow, and he ac 
tually looked like a man who "has done what 
he might be sorry for.'' Down the hill he 
came to the corner, when out rushed a gang 
of well trained boys, each with a bill in one 
hand and his hat in the other ! and each one 
of that mighty crowd threw their hats high 


NEW-MARKET, .MN. 15, 1841 


Our fern a If patrons, the operiilitet can find^ 
small encouragement in die prospect befoie 
The reduction of their wugrs seems to i.a»« 
the finishing stroke to- a series of measures m 
have been in operation Tor sereral rears. VW 
Per back to the lime when girls coutd realize aJ 
wages in the mill, as they could m the kitchtJ 
This state of things has passed for ft lime; peri 
lor all time, so far as any of us are concern* 
But this last blow has fallen wilb double nH 
upon the operatives, for it finds mswiy of them ■ 
out funde to le;i»e for a dislant home, and it p. 
them where they can scarcely pay their Ix 
The price of board in New Maiket is hut a 
lion lower than it was 10 or 15 years since, • 
girls eould clear from §2 to $1 per week. S' 
then the wages have been reduced one hall, an. 
price of board Iroro $1,25 to $1,12. This i 
amp'ed reduction has been constantly goii g* 
a heavy Manufacturing Company, which has 
in operation about 20 years, and which has i 
paid aoy dividends worth mentioning. They 
silly and heartless enough to pay an agent ^ 
$7 a day, and wring it out ot the toil of the i 

We wish indeed, we could tell a r 
and we hope, as we have been hoping for 
months past, to be able to tell a belter one s 
but at present, all wc can say is. be not dis* 
aged— bu: peservere. Be resdy to meet good l 
with unflagging spirits, and be even prepared 
life's two sharpest trials, Prosperity and Adver 

Factory Girl, Volume 3. 

This is the last JSo. of vol. I. All pei 
who wish for a neat little interesting fa 
sheet, as cheap as air, and as handy as a wj 
ing pan, had bellei subscribe immediately, M| 
,,,„ll „_« u. -.KU ,„ inmisli manv back number 
Every family within 100«J miles of here can a 
to take, and pay for this paper! Why not i 
then! Vou willenjoy the reading, and we 
the money. Send in your names. 


We shall endeavor to put on a ««» oowi 
next number, although we may be delayed until 
middle of Febuary. We are aware we have 
kept our little " Factory Girl" in decent ha-' 
ments for several numbers: but we shall try 
remedy this defect immediately if not sooner, 
have not made up our mind* about asuming 
but we are determined to makes " great 
at all hazards. 


Bosron Agekct for the Factory Gir 
Mr. L. Biglow, broker, and newsdealer, N 
Elm St., Boston, is our only authorized age. 
Boston. The Factory Girl can be bad of In. 
; ,ny quantity, wholesale or retail, by seasonal.! 
phsatio... Mr Biglow also keeps a general as 
of papers and periodicals, money 10 let, c 


meat l. , 

into the air, and made the mighty town of j { .. |n j v% B „a the other etceteras of 

their shout. "Hurrah for 1. ' An() aU p „fri„g aside, Iw aod out.a 

Bath ring with 
Lord Nelson !" 

This was quite too much! He fled at an 
astonishing rapid pace! The nearest approach 
to his speed I have ever yet seen, was my 
own flight wlsen, instead of meeting my moon- 
light pupil, Miss Zephalinda Robbins.encoun- 
ted this same Jim Nelson and his gang of 
myrmidons shouting " where's Z<Mphalinda?" 


00- John W. Davis, No. 4, John St. 
Lowell, Mass. is an Agent for this paper, 
at which place single copies can be obtain- 
ed, and other papers, periodicals, books- 


tleman to deal with. 

QCJ- Our agent in 

Boston informs ui that " 

My" has offered to furnish W with the Fa, 
Girl at wholesale, at a discount of 2Scls, 
cost! All a humbug, friend B. If )«.« cat. 
« somebody" selling at that rate, you may * 
upon it he stole 'em! unless he pay* to u 
sell you. In that ca^e you may set him dow 
,'inTUILftfh We have a few ff'j ' 
„,er. to rap ove. the knuckles, soon! JDang l« 
ire not to be bamboozled for nothing. M 
You'll catch it, or our n-me is not «« Kachi. 



5 %y DEAD ! The Mei rimnc Journal is defunct ■ 
"' The editor is probably where he said our publish- 
\ pr , v ,n a few days since, " in a pregnant position." 
fot » pity. Could not the man who swallowed 
the " dictionary and balloon" save tht Journal 1 
Wonder who wrote that word! attack upon us. 
" We are WAiT-ing to see. How are those BOKES 
he was to bestow upon the publisher of the Factory 
Girl 1 Bow ! wow ! (Bah!) 

in, OCT All persons indebted to this paper, are re- 
al tpeclfully requested, advised, solicited, entreated 
ti and implored to PAY UP!! Will not all " these 
im words" move the delinquents'? 

* 93* The chap who- foi warded us a lugubrious 
communication, on a curious subject, is informed 
thai his style is as clumsy, as bis subject is mala- 
propos. Hi* communication, was too filthy to bbrh 


uk *,* READER! How do you like that story of 
eek ©tir'n? 

yi #% Our friends are again requested {to forward 
^ no papers lo our address, with any violations of 
,^'lie Post Office law upon them. Our post master 
jjuMui conscienciousness as big as a half boshkl.& 
^ we are obliged to " fork over" for all violations 
r»n a manner really marvellous. It cannot be help- 
w *i!; as it useless to have laws, unless they are en- 
J ( forced. 



pinj We have made arrangements to im- 
, M prove our sheet, and perhaps we may 
«« undergo a trifling change in the location 
1 5 o of our publishing office. As our remo- 
prtp»Tal is yet uncertain, we can do no more 
njuhis week than to beg some indulgence 
if we should not commence our new 
m VOLUME until the 15th of February, 
ah which would be a delay oi one number. 
**sWe may avoid any delay, but whether 
a 'we do or not, we shall begin our next 
Wivolume with the very " tallest " speci- 
'""inens of stnri^, &o — Publisher. 

Marriage is honorable." 

rinU I" this town on the 5th inst., by Eld. 

i(WB1 E. Hutchins, Mr. Jacob B. Wiggin and Miss 
Caroline Smart, all of N. On the 7th, inst., 

°'"'"'by the same, Mr. Ivory F. Berry of Barring- 

5 lta 'ton, to Mi«3 Mary Jane Demeritt of Durham. 
On the 8th, inst by the same, Mr. Freeman 
Kinnerson of Clappville, Maos. to Miss Melis- 

ost ka. A. Davis of N, 

sdealei At Great Falls, Mr Jonathan McKenney 

mei ^° Miss Mar y Goodwin both of Great Falls. 

haiU In Manches ter, Mr Jacob R. Colby to Miss 

M '.ryA Worthley, both of M. 
!e In Dery, Major Benjamin H. Tilton to 

gei" r Mi»s Lo V j na Hurd, both of M. 

>ey ' ul Concord Mr Oscar Knox, printer, to 

„f , Miss Esther Tubbs, both of C. 

in undt In Hallowell, at the Cross Roads, 28th ult., 
by the Rev. E. R. Warren, of Angusta, Mr 
'•L. Seaverns of Bangor, to Miss Mercy 

,iih — 


" Death is certain.' 

ou «•»! 

|l|in i At Great Falls, Mr John Hartford, aged 
'3 yen re. 

i Mhi Roches t«T, December SO, of scarlet fe- 
» ' «r, James Tebbets, son of Noah Tebbets, 
,iliin?.*ged 7 years. 

In Wi|ru 0tj Mr. Alexander Whitemore Jr. 
e«d 22. 

"Love is just like bottled beer, 
'Tis pleasanter for being old, 
And it is like a butter toast, 

'Tis much the worse for being cold." 
The above has more truth than poetry in 
it. We remember of having a strong fit of 
desire to "connubiate''' at the age of 15, 
by hearing an old couple of 60 boast of having 
lived' together 41 years, and neither of them 
had ever used a word to the other wbich 
could cause the slightest discomposure. — 
What a miracle! 

We notice the marriage in Pennsylvania of 
a Mr. Wright to Miss BeUerway. The Brook- 
lyn Eagle thinks Mr Wright had no doubt 
read Pope's Universal prayer, particularly the 
following verse of it: — 

•'If I am wright, thy grace impart, 

Still in the right to stay: 
If I am wrong, oh!' teach my heart 

To find the betterway." 

There is nothing that a vain man will 
not do to appear virtuous f He loves 
nothing so much as his mask. I have 
known persons who in four weeks 
scarcely changed their shirts, but who 
nevertheless put on a clean collar daily, 
that they might appear clean. 

Who is hit? 

Mike Walsh gives it as his opinion 
that the greatest men are only great in 
their happy moment. If a man were 
continually brilliant, he'd set fire to him- 
self, and if his thoughts were coatinual- 
ly expanding, his head would bust. 
We know that by experience. 

A Bright Child. — The following 
incident took place in a public school in 
Lowell a few days since. A little boy 
was asked how many mills make a cent. 
Ten, sir, was the prompt reply. 

rmmeutaieiv a in igiii racea gin iieiu 
up her little hand in taken of dissent. 
•'Well, miss, what have you to say?" 
"Please, sir, ten mills bon't make a 
cent. Pa says all the mills in town don't 
make a cent." — [Bulletin. 

Disappearance of Fixed Stars. 
— More than thirteen stars have disap- 
peared within the last' two centuries. — 
One of these presented such a brilliant 
appearance for about sixteen months as 
to be visible to the naked eye at mid- 
day. La Place supposed it was, burn- 
ing up, as it has never been seen sinee. 

Old Bachelors.— An old bachelor, 
my friends, whose heart is never waim- 
ed with affection, is a miserable nobody 
in the world. He is as cold blooded 
as a turtle, and looks as melancholias a 
clam. His hopes die ffs soon as' they 
begin to pinfeather — there is no more 
sentiment in his soul, than there is mu- 
sic in a corn stalk fiddle — his thoughts 
are wrapt up in the shroud of self, he 
knows not the pleasure attendant on the 
sexual amalgamation of souls — his abode 
is fixed in the solitary wilds of celibacy 
where all is cheerless, comfortless aud 
dreary. There he lives and there he 
dies, unhonored and unwept, and when 
he is finally carried away bv the current 
of time, we can only say* there goes 
another parcel of rubbish into the gulf 
of eternity. "Dow Jr." 


A case was recently tried at Rutland, 
Vermont, in which Miss Munson re- 
covered $141 5 of a Mr Hastings, for a 
breach of marriage contract. The cu- 
riosity of the thing is, the Vermont judge 
charged the jury that no explicit prom- 
ise was necessary to bind the parties to 
a marriage contract. The principle of 
the case undoubtedly is that if Hast- 
ings did not promise, he ought to have 
done it, and so the law holds him re- 
sponsible for the non-performance of 
his duty. A most excellent decision — 
a most righteous judge — compared with 
whom Daniel would appear but a com- 
mon squire. We have no idea of a 
young fellow dangling about for a year 
or two, without being able to bring his 
courage to the sticking point, and then 
going off leaving Ins sweatheart half 
courted; we hate this everlasting nibble 
and never a bite; this beating the bush, 
aad never starting the ga-me; it is one of 
the crying sins of the age. There is 
not one girl in twenty can tell whether 
she is courted or not. No wonder that 
when Fanny Simpson's cousin asked 
her if Billy Doubtful was courting her, 
answered:: — 'I don't know 'aactly, he's 
sorter courtin and sorter not courtin.' — 
We have no doubt that this Hastings is 
one of those 'sorter not, fellows, and 
most heartily do we rejoice that the 
judge has brought him up standing with 
a $1415 verdict. 

The judge says, 'that long continued 
attentions' or 'intimacy.' according to 
the laws of Vermont; but supposing 'at- 
tentions' consist in visiting a girl twice 
a week, and estimating the time wasted 

by Miss Munson at each visit to be 
vvui tii a uuiiai , wit nasungs nas ueen 

making a fool of himself fourteen years 

and some weeks. 

The decision makes a new era in the 

law of love, and we doubt not will tend 

to the promotion of matrimony and 

sound morality. — [Utica Democrat. 

Potatoe.— This esculent and ex- 
cellent root, if not properly cooked, los- 
es all its charms. The following is an 
approved method: 

"Put them in boiling water, keep up 
a brisk fire till they are just done, take 
them out immediately, throw a wet 
cloth around them, and gently squeeze 
each with the hand till it cracks open, 
for the watery particles to escjipe in the 
form of steam, then peel them, and they 
are exactly right. By this method, al- 
most any potatoe will do well.'* 

Coming to thi Pout. — At a rus- 
tic merry-making, an enamoured yowth 
being seated near the lady of his heart, 
proceeded to express his passion in cer- 
tain sly looks, and by occasionally touch- 
ing the fair one's toe with his foot un- 
der the table. She, either alarmed for 
the purity of her hose, or determined to 
make the youth declare a passion he ap- 
peared to feel so warmly, at length ex- 
claimed, "If you love me, why tell me 
so; but don't dirty my stockings !" 

It is astonishing how much money 
politicians spend on papers not worth a 
leather sixpence. 

fCP Let none say what the> uill be, 
because with all our exertions the future 
is uncertain ; but let all say in the c(?n- 
ffdenee of virtue and integrity, " I will 
not be unworthy of my calling— I will 
not be a sot, a driveller, a fool— I will i)Ot 
be a slave to Vice and Indolence, but 
will strive to merit and win prosperity, 
and failing to obtain it cannot deprive 
me of the consciousness of deserving iit«" 
Perseverance can place mediocrity 
on an eminence— Indolence and V ;r>< * 
can much easier degrade talents of 1 
highest order to the lowest pit of in 
my. In this whirling vortex of time.> 
behooves all to guard well the mind and 
body against Indolence and its offspring 
Vice. Bad actions live only in the 
shroud of disgrace which tfeey cast over 
the memory of the actors. Good deeds 
never die — and it is their unfading hue* 
reflected upon the name of the departed 
that alone constitutes our immortality. 
"Onward" — but in the paths of virtue, 
should be the motto and resolution ©f 
the young and aspiring mind. 

All other things are subject to change; 
all other hearts may grow cold; all other 
things may be lost or forgotten — but a 
mother's love lasts forever! It is a Icin 
to that Jove with which God loves bis 
creatures, and never faileth, 

Love thy mother, then, my little 
child. When she is gone, there is no 
eye can brighten upon thee, no heart 
can melt for thee like hers; then wilt 
thou find a void, a vacancy, a loss, tlaai 
all the wealth or grandeur of the would; 
can never fill up. 

Thy mother may grow old, but he? 
love decays not; she may grow sear at 
kmi-t, anf j g rav uDon her brow, her love 
for thee will be green. Think, the. n 
in the time of her decline, of what sjhe 
has suffered, felt and known for thfL 
think of her devotion, her cares, her an[ x 
iety, her hopes, her fears — think, a#a 
do not do aught that may bring her gray 
hairs with sorrow to the grave. 

" A Factory Girl " (and a smart one 
too,) intends coming, next summer, all 
the way from New Market, N. H. to 
pay a visit to our sanctum- Let her 
come — we'll take her to Svveensy's 
and treat her to a bowl of black lea- 
for favors already received. — JV . Y, Shin* 
day Mercury, 

Oh, yon insinivating Lothario yy u 
will please consider ns offended. ty e 
prefer green tea, however — it agrtes 
with our narves. That Sweeney kee p8 
a respectable place, don't he ? beeat se 
our "Ma'rm" is "dreadful perticerletiq 
herfammaly affairs."— factory girK 

The Mercury perpetrates these ; 

"Queen Victoria ought be present, j 

w ith a piece of plait for smashing C«. 

na. , 

It is rumored that the Hung ry rn^ 

contemplate m 


aking an attack on Ti T . 


MissChief, MissManagemenl ft(,d 
MissTake, are three of the most troub, 
lesome Mistes in the city (or c«uniiy 



t .aps moM -LALLA ROOKH." 
i c wring thy fliglit from star to star, 
**i jai world to luminous world as far 

km ihe universe spreads its flaming wall; 
hkt all the p'ea-ures of all the splines 
pil -nullip'T wpIi through endlei* years, 
! minute ol heaven is worth them all!" 

Arabt's Daughter. 

_' as tlie angel-shapes that bl»SB 
}* fani'a dream, yet not the less 
L, in all woman's lovliness; — 
V''l" eves sc p itre, that from their ray 
n We w.mla torn abashed away, 
?A like serpents when they gaze 
'•}, the emerald's virgin blaze ! 

6>led with all youth's sweet desires, 
i- le the meek and vestal fires 

her worlds with all the bliss, 
fV. fold weak tenderness of this ! 
. • I tui, mire than hi If divine, 

ien? through some shades nfearlhly feeling, 
Hi ion's softenM glories shine, 

le I g it thro' sum ner feliage stealing, 
•I n - g'.ov* rh mild-hue, 
arm. ami yet so sh owy (00. 
;<kes ilievwy darkness there 
v. beautiful than light elsewhere ! 
. i* the maid who, at this hour, 
Mmh risfn from tipr restless sleep, 
■■Be sits alone in that higli lower, 
flmalcliing the still and shining deep." 

H'.kda's Entreaty. 
HRth watchfulness the maid attends 
'■■« 'ap.'d g',!".re, wlipre'er it bends— 
Btpv >li'iot bis eves such a« ful beams' 
ft" -t nlans he noivl what thinks or dieamsl 
[ «liy stands he musing here, 
Wb»a every in nnent teems with fearl 
1*1*. .fki*. my own beloved Lord,'' 
•J|!.f knceliuJ r.rie?,! "first — last adored! 
ft \r that soul tlio j'st rver fel t 
1 H df wlint ihy lips impassioned Bwore, 
Bier* on my knees that never lne!t 
, 1 o any bill ih»ir God before, 

y ihee, as thou love'st me, fly — 
How! ere yet th -ir blades are nigh, 
3S isu'.e — the bark that bore me hiiher, 

C a waft us o'er yon dark'ning sea 
1.-.U —West — alas, I rare not whither 
f*J" thor art ta!e, and I with thee! 
here we will, this hand in thine, 
ose eyes before me smiling thn«, 
1 i ' good or ill, thro' storm or shine, 
a wor'd's a world of love for us " 
| Ors soom cilm blessed shore we'll dwel', 
e "in ne crime to love loo well, — 
V e ihus to worship tenderly 
An ' ring child of light like thee, 
Itf." not be sin— or, if it b», 

e we rajy weep our faults away, 
'. ' licr kneeling Slight and day, 

, f^r mj sfcke, at alla's shrine, 
* ' — »"y 0..d's for ihine." 



A spirit there is, whose fragrant sigh, 
Is burning now throngh earth and air, 

Where cheeks are blushing, the spirit is nigh 
Where lips are meeting, the spirit is there! 

Hail to thee, hail to thee, kindling power! 

Spirit of love, spirit of bliss ! 
Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour, 

And there never was moonlight so sweet as 

By the fair and brave, 

Who blushing unite, 
Like the sun and wave, 

When they meet at night! 

By the tear that shows 

When passion is nigh, 
As the rain drop flows 

Fiom the heat of the sky! 

By the first love beat 

Of the youthful heart, 
By the bliss to meet, 

And the pain to part! 

By all thou hast, 

To mortals given, 
Whirh oh! could it last, 

This earth were heaven! 

We call thee hither entrancing power, 

Spirit of love ! spirit of bliss! 
Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour, 

And there never was moonlight so sweet 
at) this ! 


Sing! for the voice of the newly born, 

Falls in sweet gounds on the mother's ear; 
Like the sun beam mix'd with the cloud of 
the morn , 

Were dear when in joy's young hour she 

s mi I'd; 

But feeble and faint to her matron bliss, 
As she clasps to her bosom her first-born 

[From the Manchester ) 


Overseer. — A servile lool in the 
hands of an Agent; who will resort to 
On her cheek is a blended smile and tear. 1 ihe lowest, meanest and most grovelling 

] meaoiires, to please his Master, and to 
The vows of her lover, her h t.sband's kiss, | fi |, t , )e coffers o( a sou | |e9 , Corporation . 

Operative. — A person who is em- 
ployed in a Factory, and who generally 
earns three times as much as he or she 

Contemptible. — For an overseer to 

Love is the sandal tree, that sheds 
sweetness on the axe that wounds it. 

Woman's love is a beautiful flower, 
that purifies by its sweetest fragrance 
the tainted air of man's existence. 

Col. Johnson in a recent speech, said: 
"I will stand by the men when they are 
right, but I will stand by the women 
right or wrong." 

Avoid bad Company. — One cannot 
associate with a vile person one hour, 
without receiving some injury. The 
atmosphere around him is impure, and 
exceedingly dangerous. 

Novel reading vitiates and palls the 

appetite for literary food of a nutritious 
kind; it leads the youthful mind to muse 
on improbabilities; and it excites the 
passions, by administering a sweet but 
subtle poison. 

" Uneasy lies the head that wears a 
crown.'"' — The crown worn by the Em- 
press Josephine on occasions of cere- 
A Scene.— "Miss Dixon, will you ^ weighed three pounds, and left a 
please inform me if it is consistent with deep furrow on her f ore h e ad when it 
your engagements to another, to be seen L vn<s , n L pn nff ^tiijr^nrW :<= "°l 
whispering to a young man nenind a S p ac ]riino-. 
scene?" asked a jealous coxcomb of j on a se ° vere neac ] aclie . 

a lover, of his mistress one eve. ( . 

"I was not whispering to him Rob-- Dreams Prophetic. — A certain spin- 
ert." . ster once dreamed of finding a goldfinch's 

"Was he not whi^peiing to yon?" | nest, with seven young finches in it. In 
"He said a few words to me, and I jhe course of time, this vision was ac- 
complished. She married a Mr Finch, 
Miss and became the mother of seven child- 
ren. The present earl of Wincheslea 
'They were of no sort of conse- i s lineally descended from one of these 
quence, Mr Higgins, and I don't wish | nestlings, and bears his name 
to repeat them." 

ask a girl what her religious sentiments 
are, when she applies to him for em- 

Dastardly — The conduct of an Agent 
when he (instead of going himself) sends 
one of his minions to notify a watchman, 
that he is to be turned out of employ. 

Oppressive. — To make two men do 
the work of three, without making anv 
addition to their wages. 



Dry and West India Good, at th« 
lowest cash prices, 35 Main Sreet. 


Watchmaker Jeweller, 
Watches, Clocks, Rich Jewelry, Gold 
Silver, and Plated. Ware. 

UAL, For sale by U. W. FURBER. 
Price 12 1-2 cents 


nfT_ rmt ivi tct a rifling 

Moreover, it always brought [ Watches, Clocks" tfiT Jewelry, Gold. 911 

ver, anil Plaleil Wiire. 

Dry Goods, of the laicst Fashion*. 
0|i|)o.-*ite the Belknap Book Store, 
Meredith Bridge, Nov, 15. 

merely answered them aloud." 

"But what were the words, 

ch oj Promise. — A young lady 
mtly obtained through the Court 
imon Pleas, at Chambersburg 
rerdict of $1 ,500 damages fron 
srfora breach of promise of 

iave lifice learned, that he 
it through the bankrupt law, 

"Don't wish to repeat words of no 
sort of consequence! You are very 
economical ofyour breath, madam!" 

'No more so, than you are of your 
good manners, Mr Fliggins!" 

Oh! very well, madam: you may 
tell me, or not, just as you please!" 

"Now I think of it, I ought to tell 
you, as they concerned you. He asked 
me who that red-haired man with more 
legs than body was? and I informed him 
t was my beau! He then asked me if 
your mother knew you was out 1 " 
"Good night! Miss!" 
"Good night, Bobby!" 

{C7=* If one apple ruined Adam and 
Eve, how many, in the shape of cider, 
will it take to ruin all mankind? 

Our politicians would make us believe 

that we have already been politically 

ruined by the "citier." A politician's 

tongue is not always a straight one. 

Sleep has often been mentioned a? 
the image of death: "So like it," says 
Sir Thomas Brown, "that I dare not 
trust it wiihout prayer." Their resem- 
blance is, indeed, striking and appar- 
ent; they both, when they seize the 
body, leave the soul at liberty — and 
wise is he that remembers both that 
they can be made safe and happy only 
by a living faith in Jesus Christ. 

A Religious Failure The'-free- 
will Baptist Corporation," ol Lowell, 
Mass, has failed. Some $12,000 can- 
not be accounted for. Many females 
were induced to withdraw their little all 
from the Saving Institution, and loan it 
to this Corporation, by which they have 
lost years ol toil and labor. Girls and 
widows have been robbed of from $100, 
to $1,000, and many of these poor fe- 
males are out of health, and depended 
solely upon their little savings. —[Low- 
ell Pres* . 

E. KNIttHT, 




Fruit, Toys, and Coiifectionnry. 
Exeter Nor. 1, 1842. 


ft'ew- Market — Geo. W. Furber. 

Exeter. — Aaron Adams. 

jjmeshury. — J Nason. 

jimoskeag. — D. J. Daniels St Co. 

Barnstcad. — William H. Dearborn. 

Dover. — J. Folsom Cotton, No. 4 Central ft 

Great Falls. — Aaron Shorey. 27 Main St. 

Gdmanton Factory Village. — John S. \\H 

Hookset.—S.E. Phelps. — S. Menrlum, Esq. 

Lcwiston Falls. — John F. Beckett. 

Manchester. — 'David P. Perkins, at the Eh 
Street Book Store, 

Meredith Bridge. -.-OscarG. bwasey, ftt O 
Store of Gove & Cnrrirr. 

JVas/ma and Nashmlte~3. Btiffam No.- 
Central Building Main Street. 

Meredith Lake Village. — Wltiani OdeH. 

Pi«s/ie/fi.-^Jeieniiali S. Folsoro. 

Reading. — Porter' Pinkhara. 

South Berwick.— Mrs. Sarah BntUr. 

Sitco.-— 3. Mason, No 87, Factory lsla»d 

Stra$oril Cenirt. — John B. Foas,> Et%, 

Bowi teen . — Gi lota* 1 C.^S tone. 


Devoted to the Interest and Amusement of FACTORY GIRLS in particular, and the WHOLE WORLD in General. 

Volume II. ] 

EXETER, N. II., MARCH 1, 1843 

[ Number 2. 

factors ©irl 


TERMS -50 cents per annum, or 25 cents lor 6 rronths, 
in advance-twenty per cent pa.d to Agents, 
'"janbehad in Exeter, of AARON ADAMS, 


price two cents per copy. 

A l| LeU ers,Communic..tions, &X- must he directed to 
°^ the Publisher.Exeter.N. H. Post paid or free 

from Burns. 
O le - Te novels, ye mauchline belles, 

"\ e're safer at your spinning wheels; 
Sur'i witching books are baited hooks, 
1 >r rakish rooks, like Rob Mussgiel. 

Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung; 

A heart that warmly seems <o feel; 
That feeling heart but acts a part, 

'Tis rakish art in Rob Mossgiel." 

"They who but leign a wounded heart, 
May (each the lyre to languish; 

But what avails the power of art, 
When wastes the soul wish anguish? 

Then let (he sudden-bursting sigh 

The heart-felt pang discover; 
And in the keen, but tender eye, 

O read th' imploring lover." 

"There's nought but care on every hand. 

In every hour that passes, O; 
What signifies the lile of man, 

If 'twere not for the Lasses O! 

Old nature swears the lovely dears, 
Her noblest work she classes, O ; 

Her 'prentice band she tried on man, 
And then she made the lasses, O ! 

Green grow the rashes, O! 
Green grow the rashes,*0! 
The wisest man the world e'er saw, 
He dearly loved the lasses, O !" 

"The wanton coot the water swims, 
Among the leaves the ducklings cry, 

The stalely swan majestic swims, 
And every thing is blest but I. 

Come, winter, with thine angry howl, 
And raging bend the naked tree; 

Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul, 
When nature all is sad like me. 

For I must still on Marry doat. 
And bear the sccrn that's in her ee ! 

For its jet, jet black, and it's like a hawk, 
And it will not let a body be .'" 

For the Factory Girl. 

Hope Deferred. 

Ratheh Equivocal. — "1 don't say as how master 
drinks, but T do know that t lie demijohn ir. the dark 
closet don't keep full all the time. 

Bently says, that «.ven a handsome man looks 
ridiculously melancholy in a nightcap, and, deduct- 
ing his whiskers, might be mistaken for his grand- 

Selfishness.— The Jotirml of Commerce remark?, 
wi»h as much truth as severity, that "there are a few 
men to be found everywhere, who are so bound up in 
•elf-love, that if they see their own noses getting for- 
ward, they are alarmed, and try to bite them— men 
who are ever ready to wish that all other men were 
dead, that they might have a monopoly of tavern 

''The wretch whose doom is "hope no more," 

What tongue his xooes can tell t 
Within his bosom, save despair, 

No kinder spirits dwell." 

"Come Alvan, do give over this whim of going to 
sea ! You can easily get a living on shore, and there 
is no need of our being separated for eight or ten 
monhs. Stay at home, now, and be a good boy, won't 
you, husband?" 

"1 must have one more voyage, Nell, before I quit 
the brine; only one more, and then I'll just anchor my- 
self in your arms for the rest of my watch, and seek 
no other moorings. But I must have one more trip to 
weather these hard limes, Nell; so don I mind it. I 
shall be away but seven months, if we are lucky, and 
shiver my timbers but I believe Heaven will send a 
tair wind, only for your 6ake, Nell. Never mind 
these light squalls, and we'll soon find a harbor where 
we may laugh at the storms, and smoke our pipes in 
peace and plenty." 

"I can't endure the thought of your going to sea! 
If you were to be away from me on shore, where you 
could write once a week, and be in no danger of the 
sea, I could feel reconciled to it. But to be on the 
water where every week brings a gale, and almost 
every port you see i? filled with pestilence ! I declare 
I shall never get over it; I shall think every wind will 
bring the news of your shipwreck." 

"Oh, stop your croaking, lass! a sailor's wife should 
be above such old women's whims! come! get my 
traps ready ! I must, be off tomorrow, keep a light 
heart till I return, if it ain't this ten months. Never 
you ft ar for Alvan Wiley ! Did'nt my Dad and yours 
both prophecy I should one day honor the gallows? 
am! how am 1 to be drowned, then? Tut, tut, Nell; 
take heart on it: ' Davy Jones' Locker" * is a mightv 
spacious hospital for sailors, but it never cheats "the 
scragging post.' -f 

"Heigho ! If you tvill go, I must needs submi , — 
but 1 am glad yon go with a light heart. I wish 1 
could feel as confident of your snfe return, as you 

"Pshaw! A sailors life is not so very dangerous. — 
On shore, men get knocked on the head every day, 
and we all have to die at last. What's the odds! 
cheer up, girl; you'll feel better in a week or so." 

The foregoing dialogue wili inform the reader of all 
that is known concerning the parting of Alvan Wiley 
and his wife Nell. Alvan was the pride of the village, 
a boy of intelligence and honesty. Ellen Connor was 
the daughter of a wealthy Farmer, who was deeply 
tainted with the curse of money, and regarded it as 
the unerring indication of merit in its possessor. — 
When Alvan first made known to Connor his inten- 
tions of marrying his daughter Nell, his message was 
favorably received, as he was the heir presumptive 
to four ships, and much other valuable property. A 
few months however, reduced the Wiley's to poverty, 
and the prospects of Ellen's early marriage became 
somewhat gloomy. Alvan was informed that Ellen 
was too young to marry, and that a few years of court- 
ship were necessary to fit them for the arduous duties 
of life; consequently he must defer the much-wished- 
for ceremony until some future period. Alvan was 
now nineteen, and Ellen sixteen; too young indeed, to! 
begin to tread the thorny path of poverty and care 
whi;h awaits such early dreamers. Neither were 
discouraged, though they were disappointed. Alvin 
betook himself to the sea, and soon obtained the berth 
of a captain in the merchant service. No master 
could stand higher in the estimation of his employers, 
nor could any be more worthy of" the confidence he 
received. Guided and controlled by one thought and 
one wish, he carefully hoarded the fruits of his labor 
with the most rigid economy; and it was with pleasing 
emotions that he saw his little heap of Gold increase, 
as it brought him nearer to the hour when he should 
obtain the hand of Ellen Connor. At length he pro- 
posed to her father, to have their union consummited 
What was his surprise to learn that the hand of Ellen 
had been pledged to another, and that that "other'' 
was the only enemy he had ever known! It was a 

stunning blow, but its violence was soon spent. He 
was not one to pine in vain regret when he had been 
cheated in his dearest hopes. He had toiled for five 
years in every climate, through storms & perils of everv 
nature to remove the only objection urged against him 
ms the future husband of Ellen, and should he now be 
met with a direct refusal in the very teeth of his form- 
er pledge? He saw Ellen, and learned that she had 
never forgotten nor violated her early vows of love, 
and he then commenced plotting to prevent (he per- 
secution which tney well knew would be showered 
upon them, if they persisted in loving each other con- 
trary to the commands of her father. The end cf 
such a beginning is easily foreseen. They married 
against his will, and Ellen was disinherited. But with 
true Woman's devotion, she preferred poverty and 
love, to wealth and misery. The Honey-moon flew 
swiftly and sweetly by, and so happy were Ihey, that 
they could never designate the hour, day, n»r month, 
in whicti their honey-moon expired. But Alvin soon 
awoke to the necessity of repairing the inroads which 
thrt-e years of comparative idleness, and positive bliss 
had made in his income. He determined to try the 
sea once more, upon a hazardous adventure in which 
he embarked nearly all his fortune. It cost him a se- 
vere struggle, ere he could resolve to leave his home 
for a voyage of nearlv a year; how it affected Ellen 
may be inferred from the dialogue with which we 
commenced their story. 

During his absence he neglected no opportunity of 
writing, and the latt letter which Ellen received fiom 
him announced that he should be prepared to leave 
Marseilles in ten days, on his leturn home, having 
made a remarkably successful voyage, and being then 
in perfect health and excellent spirits. But months 
elasped, and he did not arrive. Other vessels which 
left Marseilles subsequent to the date of his intended 
depar'ure arrived, and brought the intelligence that he 
had sailed several days before them; but no other in- 
telligence was received by Ell en or the owners of the 
ship. After the expiration of six months, the vessel 
was given up for lost, and the amount of her insur- 
ance was collected of the underwriters; and all except 
the sorrow-stricken Ellen despaired of ever again be- 
holding any of I he lll-fateo crew of the missing ship. 
With her, the hope of again seeing her husband never 
wavered for a moment. She seemed to regard his pro- 
longed absence as a painful and indefinite separation, 
but one which must finally expire. She sought for 
books which recounted the absence of husbands for 
years, and their final return after the many hairbreadth 
escapes from every variety of danger: 6he eagerly 
grasped at every faint and improbable conjecture 
which favored her belief that Alvan was still alive, nor 
could the well -meant condolings of her friends induce 
her to renounce her hope of again meeting him upon 
the shores of Time. Her lonely and destitute condi- 
tion excited the sympathy and remorse of her father, 
who entreated her to drop her married name, return 
to her childhood's home and endeavor to forget that 
she had ever left it. But the entreaties of a father 
were heeded as iiltle as the consolations of her friends; 
she was willing to seek a shelter beneath his roof, but 
only as the wife of Alvan. Ts every consideration 
urged against her stubbornness on this subject she 
merely replied that "she shonld never abondon her 

Year3 stole by, carrying with them to eternity many 
a moment of joy and hour of woe, but they brought no 
confirmation or diminution of her confidence. Her 
condition, and her meek, quiet resignation excited the 
uity of her relatives, and endeared her to all. Her 
ardent but deferred hope had rendered her almost a 
spectre, as she was wasted and worn to the last de- 
gree. Her friends began to predict her early death, 
and her father saw with the keenest remorse that his 
own cruelty and heartless treatment, had probably 
robbed him of an angelic and an only daughter. But 
as spring approached, she revived, and again exhibi- 
ted some portion of her former beauty and sprightli- 
ness; and she mingled and participated slightly in th« 
publio festivities of the day. But novelty and amuse- 
ment could not wean her from the all-absorbing idea 
of her husband's return, nor could the blandishments 
of a fashionable country life induce her to listen to 
the slightest whisper of a widow's liberty, or a second 
husband's love. In this condition she continued, until 
five years had ela6ped, presenting the singular specta- 

The Factory Girl 

tlft of deferred hope against all the probabilities of 
time, space and death ! * * * * 

One sultry evening in June, being the seventh year 
•wee the loss of Aivan Wiley, the Connors had as- 
sembled a village pnrty and were enjoying the mirth 
and hilarity of the event with all the Zest of a rural 
appetite. Ellen Connor was there mingling in the 
d ince and the song, adding her si ; very laugh to the 
j ictind peal which often rang out in response to the 
spor.ttve and ni"rrv tale of the wit and the jesters of 
the hour. The dancers had reached the height of 
their mirth, and the whole band of merrymaking vil- 
lagers were preparing for the supper, when Ellen, 
uttering a most niercing shriek, flew across the hall 
'ike a startled bird — but ere she reached the farther 
'end, she was met hy the extended arms of the long- 
list Alvan Wiley ! Had a tenant of the tomb visited 
the meeting they could not have been more terrified ! 
Had the sea given up its dead? or could the florid and 
sun-burnt seaman before them be anything but flesh 
and blood:- When the reality of the scene was ap- 
parent, conjecture was soon busy in ascertaining 
inhere and why he had been absent so long? During 
th?se moments of painful suspense, Ellen clung to 
tift manly form of the sailor, as though her first, last, 
oniv, and dearest hope had been realized. As the 
S 'tlor gazed upon the half-lifeless form of her who 
hi I thus fed upon faith in his teturn through seven 
loig years of loneliness and giief, even when the faith 
of others had expired, his eyes filled with tears, and 
he was as a very child in his excessive joy. When 
the first tumultuous rush of surprise and transport 
had passed, congratulations without stint were lavish- 
ed upon Alvan, and he was assailed with innumera- 
ble questions respecting his long absence, and his 
fate during his sojourn in foreign pirts. After the 
commotion caused by hid appearance had subsided, 
he regaled 'hem with the following account of his 


• I left Marseilles at the time 1 mentioned in my 
l ist letter to Ellen, and for five days we enjoyed ex- 
cellent winds and weather. On the sixth, about mid- 
night, and soon after 1 had returned to my berth, the 
sh:p received a shock as though she was beating 
against a reef. I rushed upon deck, and found the ship 
htd fell off, with (it canvass shivering, she having 
ran directly on board the half-sunken wreck of a tim- 
ber-ship. Being heavily laden, and going nine knots 
at the moment of the collision, our vessel had stove j 
her starboard bows, and was rapidly fi ling. I ordered 
the men to get out the boats, which they 9et about 
doing in wilddisorder. We had a large number of 
j)issengers on board, who added to the confusion on 
bur decks, and as soon as the boat reached the water, 
the crew and passengers crowded into her so rapidly 
th it those who were first on board shoved her from 
the side of tne ship to prevent the crowd from sinking 
her. They had scarcely parted from the vessel, ere 
the boat shipped a wave and sank I consigning twenty 
persons to a watery grave! There was but one oTthe 
crew, and four passengers remaining in the ship. We 
endeavored to get out the other boat but she was too 
large for us to move, and as the ship was fist sinking 
l)v the head, we set about lashing some spars togeth- 
er for a raft, upon which we could preserve our lives 
till morning. We were in the track of the French 
and Mediterranean packets, arid we doubted not but 
that we should be picked up during the next twenty- 
four hours' While we were laboring; with intense 
diligence to complete our raft, our ship, which had 
been drifting for the last half hour, now came sudden- 
ly in to the wind; but a severe flaw soon threw her 
upon her beam ends, and she finally keeled oversav- 
ing us all with no foothold but the dashing sea around 
u?. I was partially stunned by a blow from the 
crashing and tumbling spars when she capsized; but 
wnen I recovered my sensations, I was alone in the 
water, with nothing insight! the sea running so high 
that the wreck was hid from my view. By tile merest 
accident I was driven by a wave toward? the raft we 
Bad striven to prepare, which consisted of two spare- 
topma9t3,and a piece of timber lashed together. I suc- 
c *eded in reaching this raft, to which I lashed myself 
with the rigging still attached to it, and I then shouted 
With all my remaining strength to my comrades, to di- 
rect them to the raft, if any were still above water. I 
hesru no sound of life, nor did f, after getting on 
board Hie raft, discover the slightest vestige of vessel 
br crew. When morning appeared, the wind had 
gone down, but the sea w as still running high. I had 
secured an oar in my swim to the nfr, and I now lash- 
fcd my shirt to it, and raised it for a signal to attract 
the attention of any vessel near. I now began to re- 
trace in thought, the events of the pant six hours.— 
What the nature of my reflections were, 1 leave those 
Who knew toy condition before leaving home to imag- 
ine: but you may all conclude that auch as Ihey were, 
Hitjj were not rendafed mote pleasing by the compa- 

ny of a couple of sharks, which hovered about mv 
raft, as if waiting tor exhaustion to aid them in mak 
inrr a meal of me. 

But towards noon I discovered a sail about three 
miles to windward, and making directly for me. I 
knew by her course that she was an outward bound 
vessel, and could not, in probability, escape approach- i, 
ing within half a mile of me, and I regarded escape ; 
as certain. I laughed, sang, and shouted in the dehr- ij 
urn of joy as the prospect of again beholding my home | 
increased, and I now marvel that I did not lose my | 
position upon those three sticks, and become the prey || 
of the sea-lau-yers, (sharks.) who were waiting to serve 
upon me a "writ of entry .'" My signal-.s/n>< was 
seen, and a boat was speedily despatched to my raft, 
which I quitted with no ordinary emotions of grati- 
tude for my miraculous preservation; The vessel which 
providence seemed to have sent to my rescue was an 
English outward bound East Indiiman. The Captain 
generously proposed to near the coast of Spain, in the 
hope of meeting the Yankee wine trading packets for] 
Boston or New Yo'k, so that I could sooner reach i 
my native land again. But we could not. make a sail j 
for manv days; and as we approached the Spanish 
coast, a violent autumnal storm cume on, which drove 
us before it for many days until we had crossed the 
line,and were on the African coast. A calm succeed- 
ed, and we lay beneath the burning sun of the tropics 
for days and weeks, with hardly a capfull of wind to 
fill our motionless sails. This ominous calm was fol- 
lowed bv another and a more dreadful storm. Our 
stout ship was driven like a stick towards the dreaded 
sandy coast of Africa, where swarms of Arabs were 
watching for the wrecked and the wr ck, for life and 
plunder. We were stranded— a fate which no skill 
or earthlv power could avoid. VVe remained upon 
the wreck for many hours, lashed to d'fferent p-.rts to 
prevent being washed overboard, and drencher] by 
every passing wave. The usual fate of shipwrecked 
victims on tins coast befell us. We landed, with as 
much of the wreck as we thought would serve Our 
purpose, and ere we could make any preparations for 
defence, we were surrounded by nearly one hundred 
Arabs, captured, stripped, the wreck plundered, set 
on fire, and we were driven like a horde of slaves in- 
to the interior, over hot sands that blistered our feet, 
and beneath a sun that seemed like molten lead upon 
our brains, i was seized by a burning fever, and for 
several months, I could take no note of time- I was 
delirious, although I recovered from the fever, aided 
by a powerful constitution. W hen my reason was re- 
stored. I found myself under the care of a young Arab 
girl of about twelve years ofage ; whose task had been 
To administer to my wants, and watch my wanderings 
during my insanity. A few days after my recovery, 
the band to whose lot I had fallen, were visited by a | 
great officer among these children of the desert. He j 
saw me, and ultimately bought me for four blankets, 
of my owners. I was mounted upon a camelj and fol- 
lowed the sheik still farther into the interior. When! 
we reached his citv; which was a collection of huts, 
tents, children, ruffians, scolding women, and camels; 
1 was set to wait upon him and his family, tend the! 
camels, and perform all the menial duties of a slave. 
The patient lesignation with which I performed these ! 
duties for five years, won the esteem and regard of 
the grey old Arab; and he one day bade me prepare! 
to accompany him on a longjourney. In two days, we 
started, and after journeying several weeks, we fell in j 
with an intnense caravan, being the annual caravan 
across the desert) from the interior to Mogadore.— | 
W hen I learned that we were to visit a seaport once 
more mv joy knew no bounds. I knew ttiat several ;, 
nations kept a consul at Magadore, and saw that 1 was 
to be favored with an opportunity to return to America I 

The day after our arrival at Mogadore, the sheik 
informed me that he had conferred with the English 
consul, who had ransomed me for ?250, and that 1 
must place myself under his protection without delay. 
He then made me several valuable presents, and we 
started fertile consul's office. On our way thither, 
the kind old man disclosed his real object in visiting 
Mogadore, which was, to sell me to the English, in 
order that I might return to my country for which he 
said in Arabia* I "was very much sick." The con- 
sul kindly assists d me in reaching Lishor., from whence 
I sailed for Boston twenty-seven days ago. I reached 
home without any farther delay, and soon learned 
what had transpired during my long pilgrimage in 
the African deserts. And now, good people; one 
and all, if, during your livjs you should ever read a 
convincing proof of the special care of Providence 
over each of God's humblest creatures, and of the un- 
dying devotion of woman's love, just remember the 

fate Of "Al.VA.f WlLET AND HIS WIFE NEfc.Ii." 

The Factory Girl 

EXETER, MARCH 1, 134 3. 


The females in the Mill* are required to devote Jt.fteen 
tweniy-fovrths of every working day to the corporations, 
being thirteen hours o.« incessant toil, and two hours devoiei 
to meals and preparations. Is not this fact a shameful an J 
a painful one? [a it a matter of marvel, then, that some of 
the Lowell girls should petition the Legislature of Massa- 
chusetts to establish a ten hour systeml We can easily 
foresee the probable result of this unholy, inhuman exior- 

The monopolists will go on increasing hy ounces the bur- 
den of human toil and suffering, uutil the people become 
slaves, or uutil they rise and sweep the selfish legislation 
which creates the monoply from the Statute Book. We 
shall begin to doubt the utility or justice of any legislation, 
at all for the protection of capital, if such lessons, as no» 
present themselves every day, are to be continually forced 
upon us. Where is there to .be any limits to the grinding 
tyranny of ihe Directors, agents; ahd overseers of these cor- 
porations. Think oi girls being obliged to labor incessantly 
thirteen hours each working day for a net compensation of 
TWO CENTS PER HOUR ! ! which is above the aver- 
.age net wages, being one dollar and fifty-six cents per week. 
Two cents per Jioxtr for severe liborl Is not such a les- 
son enough to make an American curse the hour when 
in an evil mood, our law rhakers firsi granted a charter to 
enable eight men to wield the wealth and power ofone hun- 
dredl If there is not some speedy modification of the ty- 
rannical corporation rules, we trust the friends of the op- 
pressed will petition the legislatures to institute a legal in- 
quiry into these oppressions. If that step is taken, let the 
tyrants tremble. 


"Life belongs only to God, and that is why it is written, 
"Thou shall not kill." When'the law kills, it inflicts not a 
chastisement, it commits a murder ! Can you call by i'r,e 
name ol justice the act which renders man infamous — the 
act which atone blow ravishes from a human being all his 
rights, and even the faculty oi ever possessing an\ rights? 

When you have converted an animated being into a hand- 
ful of dust, will that dust, scattered by the winds over dig 
lace ol the earth, prove a seed of good, a gem of virtue?" 

We thought, when we commenced, to have written some- 
thing on capital punishment worthy of being read, but thej 
eloquence of Mennais, from whom we have stolen our text, 
has rendered any sermon unnecessary. The abolition oi 
this sanguinary relic of antiquity is becoming a subject of 
deep inteiest to the philanthrophy ot the age. We think wsj 
can see in the reason given by its advocates, a reason for 
its abolition. If you ask a believer in hanging what good 
it does a man to bang him, he will urge several reasons 
which are easily shown, to he no reasons at all; and when 
driven to his only reason, the answer invariably is, "He 
has murdered a man, and^ought to die!" This is a blood- 
thirsty retaliation and not a wise or merciful policy. If 
crime unrepented of is held to account beyond the graie, 
how necessary ii is that all possible means should be afford- 
ed to the criminal to settle his account with his maker be- 
fore his death ! 

* The butiwm ul ttie te;i. 
t The gulluwj. 

J M B. 

Corporation Tyranny. 
Some operatives of Lowell have petitioned the Legisla- 
ture ot Massachusetts to establish by law a ten hour sys- 
tem. The petition discloses a new feature in the history 
ot corporate domineering. It seems that when girls engage 
to work for a corporation, they are compelled to sign an 
agreement to work one year. When this agreement is vio- 
lated, the name of the offender is reported to all the other 
corporati jus, and a mutual agreement exists among them not 
to employ these violatiors of tins unjust rule. Some oper- 
atives on the Middlesex commenced work under these con- 
ditidns; and sodn after they entered the mill, their wages 
were cut down; They instantly left, not regarding it as i 
violation ol the ''iron rule," because they stipulated for cer- 
tain wages, which was first violated. Vet they were de-> 
riiad employmaut upon all the other corporations, on the pie* 

The Factory Oirl. 

that they had lelt the Middlesex contrary to agreement. It 
is by such arbitrary movements as these, that corporations 
commit a most unnecessary suicide. The end of all such 
measures is. to arouse the oppressed, and to awaken the 
people to a knowledge of these heartless abuses; and when 
this is done, the abuse is remedied, and other powers be- 
stowed as a favor, are taken from tbem as a reward for their 
meanness. Under the present peculiar political division of 
the Massachusetts Legislature, we expect this petition w 11 
elicit mnch inquiry and discussion. 


The manufacture of th's moonshine commodity is reduced 
to an art, and one has only to steal the thoughts of another, set them to some jingling measure, to obtain the rep- 
utation of a poet ! The following verses, which we copy 
from the "Olive Branch." express a thought or idea, as 
Completely hacknied and thread bare as any cast ofT gar- 
ment can possibly be; and yet, we will hazard our scissors 
On an even bet that the author thinks itself a poet: 
1 To C. II. ' 
"Ah. many fleeting years have passed, 

My friend, since we have met: 
Though o'er us Time bis shade has cast, 
Friendship unites us yet. 

The pittance Heaven may bestow, 

On me, I'd share with thee; 
For thy kind heart lull well I know, 

Thy part would share with me." S.K, 
Can any sympathy be more melting than that? We ralh- 
'er guess not. All poetry is not troubled with So much same- 
ness, however; in the same No. of the Olive Branch, we 
find a poem entitled "Beautiful Things;" by which title, we 
Opine, the author intended to describe a portion of his own 
poem. We allude to the following; and some of our male 
grumblers may say it would indeed be beautiful to behold 
such a picture existing somewhere in reality, instead of in 
tue moonshine glare of poetry; 

""Pis beautiful, a lovely sight, 

A young, confiding girl to see, 

Whose pure, and warm, and gentle heart, 

By Heaven attuned to harmony, 

No other passions deigns to know 

Than Love and Hope — " 
"Aye, there is the catch !" says the grumbler. -'It is 
hard, if not impossible, to find one who deigns to know no 
other passions hut Love and Hopp: unless the Love is self- 
love, and the Hope — to be married !" Grumblers are never 
pleased, and that is some comfort to vs that never grumble. 

To Correspondents. 
"Rosalie" and "Alfred" from Boston have been received. 
She shall have her communication returned, and she may 
burn it if she is so minded. He deserves to be put in the 
stocks for vilely trampling upon the feelings of the fallen. — 
How like a mean-spirited dog. are some men! They are 
too cowardly to asfail a man while he can defend himself; 
but when misfortune has laid him low, they are as noisy as 
the west wind in their denunciations. So some dogs (or 
poppies) will never attack a dog alone, but when a gang ol 
brave mastiffs have got one down, these sneaking curs are 
ever ready to pounce upon the prostrate foe. Shame .' 

Prices to suit the Times. 

To encourage clubbing, we follow the example of many 
of our "illustrious predecessors," and offer the ''Factory 
Girl" to individuals who will become responsible for any 
given number of copies, on the following terms : 

For 5 copies, one year, S2.00— for six mos. SI. 00 

" 10 3.75— " " " 2,00 

a 20 " " " 7.00 — " " " 3 50 

" 50 " " " 15,00— " " " 7,50 

u i oi) « •< " 21,00 — " " " 12,00 

All orders must be post paid. All Agents, accounts 
must be settled monthly. 

eration a great many years, and the number of females who 
j have thus held office is quite large, During all this time 
there has not occurred a single instance of defalcation among 
[them. Though it is no compliment to a person to be hon* 
est and faithful, for 'his is a matter of duty, yet it is espec- 
ially honorable to be so amid those times and temptations 
in which many fall astray.— [N. Y..Eve. Post. 

Attention the Fair.— The following was djKO-fe at 
the dinner of a 'Bachelor's Club:' 

The Ladies— Constantly invading our territory.and in- 
ducingdeseitiohs from our ranks— may every n> tober of 
'our club' be on the alert to take the fair culprits and feeing 
them to trial; and when fhev come to court, may they join 
issue and r.evcr be non-suited, 

&f)e ©Itbr Brand). 

lion's Herald says that this paper is the least quoted by 
its exchanges of anj p;iper. It is an indication of very stu- 
pid taste, then, for the Olive Branch contains every Week 
more harmless and useeful originality than many exchanges 
we wot ol. It is a great pity that difference of opinion 
shot-Id lead an Editor into personal or disparaging language 
-more particularly,the Editorof a religious journal. Crim- 
ination and blackguardism should be left for their natural 
devotees, the politicians. 


W« received from somebody a few days since the loan of 
a periodical, the "Symbol," and "Odd Fellows' Magazine," 
semi-monthly, Boston. As one might infer from the is 
devoted to the interests of the "Order," and will prove an 
able advocate of odd fellows of all "orders;" it must be the 
most spec! il advocate of order; for in the 24 pages of No 1, 
we find the word "Ordfer" thirty-nine times ! ! ! Thomas 
Prince is the publisher. 

Language — changes with main ers, customs, and insti- 
tutions. If a modern preacher we; e corn pe'led to read an 
ancient sermon, published in the sttle of 1 "42, he would 
probably fall asleep, — not to wake again — till after dinner. 
The following verse o is from Chaucer, who wrote between 
A. D, 1323, and 1400. 

"But right as floures through the cold night 
Inclosed stoupen in hir stalke lowe, 
Redressen hem ayen the sunne bright. 
And spreden in hir kindlie course by rowe; 
Right so began his even up to throw 
This Troilus, and selh, "O Venus dere, 
Thy might, thy grace, yherried be it here." 

Spenser — who wrote in the /alter part of the 16th cen- 
tury, seems to have been ahead of Chatterton, who wrote 
full two hundred years later. The following from Spenser 
is but little behind some of the late English sonnetts: — 

'•O, what avails it of immortal seed 

To been upbred and never horn to die? 

Far better I it deem to die with speed, 

Than waste in woe and wailful misery. 

Who dies, the utmost doloiir doth able; 

But who that lives is left to wail his loss: 

So life is loss, and death felicity. 

Sad life worse than glad death, and greater cross 

To see friends grave, than' dead the grave self to engross.'' 

The following is the first stanza in Chattbrton's "Min- 
istrelle's songe:" 

O ! synge untoe mie roundelaie. 
O ! droppe the brynie tenre wythe mee, 
Daunce be moe atte hallie daie, 
Lvcke a rennynge rvver bee; 
Mie love ys tledde. 
Gone to hys deth-bedde, 
Al under ihe wyllowe tree." 

Sweet Pretty Little Factory Girl I ! 
Such is the direction of the Independent Gazette, manger 
the hint we gave in our last that "sugar plums is not riz." 
If the Gazette wa3 not a spirited, fiery little chap, who ad 
vocates a hedy cause, we would give him the mitten for his 
forward, presuming fondness. "Oh! these men!" Did 
you erer f" 


The cars which brought home the Boston Temperance 
delegation to the Worcester convention, ran into another 
train; on hearing of which, an Aldermanic youth of Boston 
remarked "that it was no wonder accidents haj>pencd when 
cold water delegates went on a train and got smashed!" 

The BRidf..— The writings of Washington Irving 
abound in p ; ctures, which for delicacy. taste and truth, 
are not surpassed by those of any writer in the £t-,g- 
lish language. The following is an exquisite pissage 
from a chapter in his Bracebridge Hallt 

"I know tin sight more charming and touching than 
that of a timid bride, in her robes of virgin white let? 
up trembling to the altar. When I thus heboid a 
lovely girl in 'he lenderness of her years,forsakingthe 
house of her father and the home of her childhood — 
and with implicit confidence and the sweet self-aban- 
donment which belong to woman, giving up all the 
world for the man ot her choice; when [ heai her, in 
the good old language of the ritual, yielding herself 
to him "for better or for worsp, for richer, for poorer, 
in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and obey, 
till death us do part"— it brings to mind the beautiful 
and affecting devotion of Ruth: '-Whither thou rroest 
I will go." 

Dear Sir: 


Of Mr. S. R. B's Communication. 

"In dressing a ealve's head, altho' 
The tongue and brains together go; 
Both keep so great a distance here, 
We doubt il ever they came near." 

Resp' yours, Ed. Fac. Girl. 

Od" The following compliment to woman is so richly de- 
served, that we seek to give it as wide a circulation as pos- 
sible. It reminds us of a rich man who sought for many 
years to find an honest man. At length, he announced that 
he had found one, and set the district in an agony of impa- 
tience, by telling .them all it was a neighbor, and bidding 
them gvess him out. They guessed all but the Parson, and 
still the man cried "no !" At length, one guessed the Par- 
son of the parish "No, but you are tolerable nigh it," re- 
plied the man: after many importuniiies to name an honest 
man, he named the Parson's wife ! Now read the follow- 
ing : — 

Female Defaulters. — It has been the practice, in the j 
Post Office Department, to appoint the wives of deceased j 
post masters as their successors, in those cases in which it i 
was agreeable to the people, This practice has been in op- J 

A SONG, For the Pickle Mistress. 

Forbear, sweet wanton ! Go your ways ! 

I heed no more your dainty smiling: 
Your sugar'd words — your thrilling gaze— 

And matchless craft in heart-beguiling,* 
For though your beauty may be bright, 

If all may in its splendor bask, 
Pray bid my love a fair "good night !" — 

1 will apt con a common task. 

Forbear, false Syren ! Strive no more ! 

Your tuneful voice hath ceas'd to charm me; 
Your power hath gone— your reign is o'er,— 

Those witching sounds, can no more harm me — 
For though the strain was honey sweet, 

Its honied sweetness all allowed: 
And I like not the poor conceit, 

To be but one among the crowd. 

But give to me the stedfast soul 

Whose love no selfish care can sever, 
And I will own her fond control, 

And throne her in my heart lorever. 
But till such wondrous maid I find, 

( And fondly hope I such exists, ) 
7'helove that changeth like the wind. 

May like the wind go where it lists. 

25 ft 1 1 o r f a I ffiocrespontieBcc. 

Mr. Editor: — The bustle and heartburning creat 
ed by my former correspondence having nearly sub- 
sided in New Market, 1 shall venture to address you 
a short note respecting our condition in the mill. — - 
What are we coming to? I can hardly clear my 
way, having saved from four weeks steady work, but 
three hundred and ninety*one cents ! And yet the time 
1 give to the corporation, amounts to aboul fourteen 
oHifteen hours. We are obliged to rise at six, and 
it is about eight before we get our tea, making four- 
teen hours. What a glorious privilege we enjoy >n 
thi3 boasted republican land, don't we? Here am [, 
a healthy New Ergland Girl, quite well-behaved, be- 
stowing just halt of all my hours including Sundays, 
upon a company, for less than two cents an hour, and 
out of the other half of my time, I am obliged to 
tvash, mend, read, reflect, go to church ! '■ &c. [ re- 
peat it, what are we coming to? What is to make the 
manufacturing interest any better? Our overseer 
says America will never be able to sell any more 
cottons than she does now; then how are we to liaye 
any better times? t have been studying some new- 
writers on ManufBCtureB, and shall ask this question 
often. Ogtavw, 

The Factory Girl 

» -X> S£ 3P ^ 

[By Bl.WM ] 
Tune —John, come kiss me now. 

In summer when the hay was mown, 

And corn wav'd green in every field, 
While clover hlooins white o'er the lea; 

And roses blow in every hield; (1) 
Blithe Bessie in her milken shiel 

Says, "I 11 he wed, come on't what will;" 
Out spake a dame in wrinkled eild, (2) 

"O, good advice comes never ill!" 

'True, ve have woers many a one, 

And lassie, ye're but young ye ken; 
Then wait awhile, and wisely choose 

A routhie butt, a roulhie ben, (3) 
There's Johnie of the Busjye-glen, 

Full is his barn, full is his byre, 
Take ibis from me, my bonnie ben, 

It's plenty makes the lover's fire." 

"For Johnie ol the Buskie-glen 

I dinna care a single flea; 
He loves so well his crops and kine, 

He has no love to spare for me: 
But blilhe's ihe blink of Robin's ee, 

And well I know he loves me dear; 
One blink of him I would not give 

For Buskie-glen and all its gear." 

"O thoughtless lassie, life's a fight, 

The gentlest road the strife is sair; 
But with full hand 'tis fighting best, 

And hungry care's a fearful care; 
But some will spend, and some will spare, 

And willlul lolks must have their will; 
So, as ye brew my maiden fair, 

Remember ye must drink the gill.'' (4) 

"Oh, gold will buy me rigs of land, 

And gold will buy me sheep and kye; 
But the tender heart of youthful love, 

The gold and silver cannot buy, 
We may be poor — Robie and I, 

Light is the burden love lays on; 
Content and love bring peace and joy, 
What more have queens upon a throne''. 

I, Vallty. 

J, A aell-itocked parlor and kiichtr. 
*, Ale. 

There's something in a kiss, 

Though I cannot reveal it ; 
Which never comes amiss — 

Not even when we steal it ! 

We cannot taste a kiss, 

And sure we cannot view it ; 

But is there not a bliss 

Communicated through il? 

I'm well convinced there is 
A certain something in it ; 

For though a simple kiss, 
We wisely strive to win it. 

Vet there is something in a kiss, 
If nothing else would prove it, 

It might be proved alone by this, 
All hoorst people love it. 


S«eet lady ! in my dreams last night, 

I saw a face and form divine ! 
In sooth, it was a pleasant sight, 

Fur well 1 knew that both were thine. 
Those flashing eyes ! — I see them yet — 

Melhought were strangely fixed on mine; 
Her arms around my neck were thrown — 

Shall I confess?—! thought them thine ! 
One chaste salute on that soil cheek, 

With daring, I presumed to take, 
When, lo ! the sun came shining on 

Your humble servant — wide awake ! 
I cursed the sun — the glorious sun — 

That changed the darkness s into day — 
That snatched the prize I thought was won — 

That chased thai glowing dream away. 
Now, by my hopes of Heaven, I vow, 

If in my very dreams lliou art, 
My stoic bosom Iain must yield, 

For 1 have lost my heart. C. 

How to get Married without Courtship. — When 
the celebrated John Kemble received thepostive promise ol 
Lord North, that, in case of his marriage within a certain 
time, a certain snm of money was to placed at his command, 
he thought it both prudent and necessary to select a help- 
male belore the period of limitation expired; and, therefore, 
one morning alter rehearsal, he, in his usual pompous and 
declamatory manner, addressee! himself to Mrs Bereton, who 
was the widow of an aclor, and on the boards herself. — 
"Mrs. Bereton," said Kemble, "from the friendship I in- 
dulged for V0ur late hu»hand,and my personal observation 
of your conduct, 1 have no objection to making you my wife. 
This is Thursday, and by this day week, you will oblige 
me with your answer." Mrs. B. was surprised, both at 
the offer and in the manner in which that offer had been 
made, and on her return home consulted her mother, Mrs 
Hawkine, as to the oourse she should adopt, Her advice 
was, that her daughter should accept the offer; and, on the 
following Thursday, when Mr Kemble applied to her for her 
decision, the answer was lfavorable. The only notice Mr. 
Kemble took was to name the dny, and he paid no more at- 
tention to his bride elect till she met him on the morning ol 
their marriage. Bannister gave a wedding- dinner to his 
friend, after which Kemble repaired to the theatre, where 
he was announced to pei form one of his principal characters, 
and from whence he forgot to return to Bannister for his 
bride, who, however, was escorted by her friends to her new 
home in Great Russel street. This singularcourtship turn- 
ed out most happily for Mr. Kemble. He had not failed in 
the estimation ol the qualities of the companion he had chos- 
en; and she was perhaps a better wife than the lady, in con- 
sequence of whose attachment this hasty match was projec- 
ted, might eventually have proved. 

Kill oh Cure.— A good story is told of a* sharp fellow 
who promisid a quack £50 to attend upon his wife through 
her sickness, kill or cure. The woman died, and the quack 
wanted his money. "Why," exclaimed the man, in utter 
consternation, "did you kill my wife?" "The Lord preserve 
us — no !" replied the poor doctor. "Did you cure her?" 
"Why no. "Then I have nothing to pay you; 1 wanted you 
to kill or cure my wife— didn't care much which— and you 
have done neither, Leave my house, sir; you must be an 
impostor !" 

Pbide and Shame. — In a fable by Mandeville, it is 
said that you have but to increase a man's pride, and his 
fear of shame will ever be proportioned to it; for the greater 
value a man sets upon himself the more pains he will take, 
and the greater hardships he will undergo to avoid shame. 

Keep it before yourself, Young- man, that in- 
dustry, integrity, good morals and virtue will be a 
passport fur you in society, and will make you respec- 
ted and esteemed by the guod and wise,— that a young 
man with a cigar in his mouth, and cane in hid hand, 
•i rid his brains running to hair, m iy do very well for a 
beau, uut is not to be compared to the pljin unpre- 
tending youth whose heart is right, and wnose com- 
mon 6ense will not allow him to play the dandy. 

Ladies in Dover who are in want of English Goods of the 
first quality , and on the most reasonable terms, would Co 
well to call on J. Folsom Cotton, Frank I. n Square. 


AND 72&Zt<3!Z 

IP IB 2 ST © 9 


15 Water street, 2nd door up stairs. 

Tn this town, Mr William E. Foss, to Miss Lucy Norris. ol this lown. 

In this town, hy Rev. Mr Hooper, Jr.. Mr Thomas Pear- 
sons to Miss Sophia I. Fuller. both of this town. 

In Salisbury, Mr Jabez S. Collins to Miss Betsey Sar- 

Iii Wilton. Mr Samuel N. Wood, of Lowell, to Miss Ma- 
ria Gray, of W. 
In West Amesbury, Mr John L. Haskell to Miss Beis?y 

A. Sargent. 

In Beverly, Mr Ezekiel Smith to Miss Mary Ann Bisser., 

both ol Salem. 


Solid Comfort — There is a lady in Buckingham conn- 
ty, Va., who must be a solid comfort to her husband, if any 
thing is indicated by avoirdnpoise. Her own weight is 
three hundred and seventy pounds; and she has a child who 
is destined, if he lives, to be the heir of all her greatness. — 
Only eighteen months old, he weighs ninety-three pounds 
Verily it would seem to be neeessary to employ a derrick, 
tackle and lall to put such a babe in the cradle; and the 
nurse who could "dandle" him on her knee, ought to be able 
to hand him the United States Bank Building for a baby 
house.-[U. S. Post. 

Cupidity is the desire for gold. 
Cupid-Wy is the desire for love. 
Cup-idity is the desire for liquor. 

In language, all are spelled alike— in life, all are spelled 

We have been advised to use solt words, and hard argu- 
' menls ; but il is quite common to reverse the order, and use 
hard words and soil arguments, Men rail when they can- 
not reason. 

These are first rate times for getting married. Where 
two persons arc made one, of course half the expense ol liv- 
ing is taken away. 

In South Hampton, 11th 'lit., Mrs Betsey Eaton, wife of 
Mr Aaron Eaion aged 73. 

On l he 17ih ult , Mrs Betsey Merrill, widow of Deacon 
Parker Merrill, sged 73. 

In Wesl Newbury Mass., Mrs Nancy, wife of Mr Amos 
P. George, aged 49, formerly of Salisbury, N. H. 

In Newport, 21st ult., Abigail, wife of Hubbard Newton, 
formerly of Amherst— aged G4. 


Travelling Agrents— Moses B. Thombly, Charles 
r. Bryam',"Eben Roby, Joseph L. Colby. 

L BIGELOW of Boston, No 7 Elm Street i9 au- 
thorized as General Aeent t >r that vicinity. Thin 
pappr can be had of him bv the dozen or ^hundred, or 
single copy the same as of the publisher. 

JOHN W. DAVIS, No 5 John St. is an Agent for 
this paper; where it may be had in any quantity. 

The Factory Girl may be had in Newburyport, at 
SOMERBY'S Newspappr Sf Periodical Depot, No 2 
Pleasant Street, by the single copy or by the dozen. 

Exeter. — Aaron Adams, or at the pub'ication office. 

New-Market. — Geo. VV. Furber, at his Fancy Good 
Store, where this paper can be had by the single copy t 

Amesbury. — J. Nason, at the Post Office. 

Amoskeair.— D. J. Daniels Co., at their Store. 

Birnstead.— William H. Dearborn. 

Dover.- J. Folsom Cotton, Franklin Square. 

Great Falls.— Aaron Shorey, 27 Main Street. 

Gilinanton Factory Village.— John S. Hi'l. 

Hnokset.- -S. E. Phelps, or the Agent of the Manu- 
facturing Company. 

Kennebunk — S. Mendum. Esq., Main Street. 

Lewiston Falis.— John F Beckett, E-q. 

Manchester — David P. Perkins, at the Elm Street 
Book Store. 

Meredith Bridge.— Oscar G. Swasry, at the Store 
of Gove and Currier, opposite the printing office. 

Nashua and Nashville.— J. Buffum, No. 3 Central 
Building Main Stieel. 

Meredith L ike Village— William Odell. 

Pi. tsfield— Jeremiah S. Folsom, at his store. 

Reading— Porter Pinkham- 

South Berwick— Mrs Sarah Butler. 

South New Market— J. &, E. Choatc. 

Saco-Jeremiah Mason, No 37 Factory Island 

Strafford Centre— John B. Foss, E-q. 

Boscawen and vicinity— Gilman C. Sione Esq